


Out of My Hands

by Ashenious



Series: The Witcher Fics [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Like if you can watch the show then you can probably read this, M/M, Mostly part 2 will be like that anyway, One part is a very imporant part that a bard needs, Other, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Stories that could be read through shipping eyes, There's knives going into body parts, Whump, in this house we post sporadically, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:33:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashenious/pseuds/Ashenious
Summary: Jaskier didn’t have many things to fear, after all, he was usually traveling with Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, the infamous Witcher of the continent, and he had never let anything bad happen to Jaskier. Geralt would have begged to differ, as his experiences with Jaskier only seeming to be those that were ridiculous and troublesome and often taking a turn for the worst. Even in those situations that would change to Geralt having to save Jaskier from trouble he had gotten the pair into, Jaskier never walked away too terribly harmed.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Witcher Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615159
Comments: 11
Kudos: 259





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fell down a rabbit hole and now I'm here. My brain only had the idea "Hurt the bard" and the trope of a knife pinning someone to a wall in mind, and somehow this came to be. I also need angst somewhere after episode 6 so that'll be reserved for part 2 as this fic got way too long somehow. (Also, how do I summary besides just copying the opening paragraph?)

Jaskier didn’t have many things to fear, after all, he was usually traveling with Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, the infamous Witcher of the continent, and he had never let anything bad happen to Jaskier. Geralt would have begged to differ, as his experiences with Jaskier only seeming to be those that were ridiculous and troublesome and often taking a turn for the worst. Even in those situations that would change to Geralt having to save Jaskier from trouble he had gotten the pair into, Jaskier never walked away too terribly harmed. Despite his confidence that Geralt would most definitely save him on any given day, Jaskier still couldn’t stop himself from shrieking and attempting to run away at the first sign danger.

It was the shriek from behind the wall of foliage that alerted Geralt to danger in the surrounding area, a shriek that Geralt couldn’t help but sigh at as the noise hit his ears while he was attempting remove Roach’s pack from her back. Setting the pack back down and gently patting Roach on her side, Geralt drew out his sword with his other hand before taking off in the direction of his bard’s out cry, wondering exactly what kind of trouble the man had gotten to in the middle of a forest. Again.

Busting through a thicket that was particularly stubborn, Geralt let his eyes glide over the small opening before him as he took his stance, almost positive that he had heard Jaskier from the exact spot that he was standing in. Eyes still moving about the area, Geralt turned his attention to any and every noise that he could hear, hoping to catch a sign of where his bard had gone. None of the noises around him were unusual however, just the sounds of leaves brushing against each other as a light wind blew over head, and the sound of the creak flowing nearby that Jaskier was supposed to have gone to to grab some water from.

The sound of something cracking caught Geralt’s attention after a few moments of listening around, but as the sound seemed to be coming from 2 different places, Geralt felt his face tighten as he chose to look in the direction of where the noise seemed closest. Seeing nothing in the area from where the noise seemed to be, Geralt turned his head to look toward the other area where he thought he had heard the cracking noise. It was only but a second later that Geralt felt something strong hit the side of his head, something that hit with a purpose as Geralt felt his vision quickly fade from his eyes.

He didn’t feel himself hit the ground as he lost consciousness, so as he felt the spots of his sight coming back, Geralt curiously shifted against the feeling of something solid at his back. It took a few moments for his vision to return slowly, but the first thing that Geralt noticed when he was able to see fully was that 2 people were shuffling their hands through Jaskier’s bag. Blinking at the sight to try to clear his vison of the last few specks of darkness flickering about, Geralt’s ears picked up the sound of someone to his right.

“Come now, whatever’s in my bag that you think you may need, I’m sure we can talk this through! There’s no need to be brutish toward our belongings!” Jaskier said as Geralt turned to face him. Seeing his lute being tossed to the side as the people continued to empty out his bag onto the ground, Jaskier let out an overly loud gasp that made the 2 people before him turn to face him. “Not my lute! Oh, the dirt is not good for the strings!”

“Ah, the Witcher is awake…” one of the persons mumbled as their eyes crossed over to Geralt. Turning his gaze to the people as Jaskier turned his eyes to him, Geralt locked eyes with the person who had spoken and waited for them to speak again.

“Oh, Geralt! Oh, thank the heavens you are alright!” Jaskier said before anyone else spoke. “Can you please tell this overly brutish pair that there was no need to tie us up just to riffle through our stuff? We would’ve been more than happy to share…whatever it is that they needed from us had they just asked us.” Hearing Jaskier continue to talk, Geralt assumed that he wasn’t injured by the 2 still looking at him.

He hadn’t seen any visible injuries on the bard when he had looked at him either, only scruffs of dirt on his doublet. For most people, Geralt would’ve assumed that they were alright by the fact that they were talking, but not Jaskier. The bard talked through any state he was in, even in his worst states where it was best for him to remain silent, so Geralt took the lack of blood on the man as a sign he wasn’t harmed. Had the bard remained completely silent, Geralt would have assumed the worst had happened while he was unconscious.

“I’m afraid we have nothing of value in our packs that you may be searching for,” Geralt said simply as he glanced between the people before him.

“Oh, I don’t believe that. A Witcher has to have something of value with him on his travels,” the other person said as they turned back to Jaskier’s bag. Dumping all the remaining contents onto the ground, Jaskier let out a groan at the sight.

“If you want a Witcher’s stuff, then pray tell why you are going through _my_ belongings?” Jaskier said as he squirmed a bit. As the person still looking at him broke eye contact, Geralt looked over to Jaskier and his squirming. The man was normally an active and animated person in any situation, but never so much so one for wiggling around seemingly randomly. Jaskier kept his eyes on the people before him, and as he continued to ramble on about the dirt collecting on his things while the pair began to go through Geralt’s bag, Geralt noticed the almost free movement of his arms behind the bard’s back.

Feeling his own arms bound by something, Geralt wondered if the people who had tied them up didn’t see Jaskier as that much of a threat and so didn’t tie his arms back as strongly as his own, or if the bard’s incessant wiggling was able to loosen the holds on him. Either way, as Jaskier continued to talk on and on, Geralt could see the focused look in his eyes as he stared forward and continued his squirming.

Moving his eyes from Jaskier to the area around, Geralt spotted his swords thrown haphazardly into a bush nearby, taking note of exactly how far away they were before turning his eyes back to Jaskier. Meeting the bard’s eyes for a second, Geralt nodded gently and turned to watch as his bag was roughly shook to remove all his belongings from inside.

This method of escaping his bindings wasn’t Geralt’s preferred way, but it seemed that the robbers weren’t up for discussion in the current moment, and the sun was going to set soon. Hoping to be able to intimidate the 2 before him once he was free, Geralt only glanced at his swords for a second as he confirmed their location should the people proved more violent once he was free.

The pair still hadn’t turned their eyes back to Geralt and Jaskier as the talkative man finally pulled his arms free, and Geralt kept his eyes in front of him as he saw the quick movement of Jaskier’s arms in his peripherals. Seeing a hand coming at him from his right, Geralt prepared himself to stand up and run toward his swords.

Just as Jaskier’s hand disappeared behind the limits of his sights, Geralt saw the person on the left turn around suddenly, and just as suddenly as they turned around, their hand flew through the air and released something toward the Witcher and his bard. Feeling his teeth clench at the sight, Geralt tried to throw himself to his right, and tried to use his body to push Jaskier out of the way.

Finding his body stuck to the tree behind him despite his attempts, Geralt let out a small grunt as he was kept in place just as he watched a knife pierce through the palm of his bard’s outstretched left hand, quickly pinning him to the tree that was behind him. As soon as the knife went through his hand, Jaskier let out a scream from the pain that surged through his arm, his other hand coming up to grab at his forearm tightly.

As he screamed, Geralt watched as another knife flew past his eyes and into the left side of Jaskier’s belly. Curling forward on impact, Jaskier reached his still free hand down and placed it around the knife poking out of his stomach, his middle finger and ring finger clenched tightly around the handle to prevent it from moving.

“Jaskier!” Pulling on his bindings again, Geralt watched as Jaskier released ragged breaths of pain and his shoulders shook with his breaths. Hearing laughing coming from his side, Geralt turned his head to see the robber that had thrown the knives laughing and juggling 3 more knives in their hand.

“Going somewhere, bard?” they said before they turned back around to again go through Geralt’s stuff. They continued to juggle the knives in their hand as they watched their partner sort through the things on the ground, and Geralt couldn’t stop his face from scrunching up in anger.

“Well, I was… trying to!” Hearing a bit of movement again, Geralt turned and watched as Jaskier tried to reach his free hand toward Geralt’s arms again, his hand trembling as he got closer. He stopped just out of reach of Geralt’s arms, and Geralt tried to close the distance between them, unsuccessful as he still remained held in place against his tree.

“Fuck…” he heard Jaskier curse as the man continued to reach. Seeing the blood that was beginning to stain the bard’s clothing, Geralt gritted his teeth.

“Stop. You’re bleeding too much.” Geralt whispered harshly at Jaskier, who simply ignored him and continued yet to extend his hand toward Geralt. Blood continued soaking through the Jaskier’s doublet, and as the edge was reached and blood began to soak into his pants, Geralt cursed. “Jaskier!”

“Almost…” Jaskier whispered as he tried to inch his hand closer still. The robber who was still juggling their knives glanced back at the bard, and again they laughed at the sight before them before they turned back around to their partner who was examining a bag that held Geralt’s recent payments.

As the juggler turned away, Jaskier yanked his hand away from Geralt, causing the man to furrow his face at the action, and as Jaskier’s hand grasped onto the knife keeping his other hand in place against the tree, Geralt couldn’t help but clench his fists. Jaskier sucked in his breath sharply, and he slowly let it go as he glanced at Geralt. Clutching tightly on the handle of the knife, Jaskier ripped it out of his hand quickly, a sharp intake of breath accompanying his movement as he fell over toward Geralt.

Jaskier’s breaths returned to their rapid and ragged exhalations, and blood began to flow from his hand as it fell and then lay on the ground next to him, small twitches of his fingers moving the blood off his hand faster. His other hand was still clenched impossibly tight on the handle, his knuckles white and his finger nails digging into his palm when he pushed his good hand forward, quickly slicing at the binds that held Geralt down just as the robber before them turned and again threw at knife at the bard.

Geralt didn’t hesitate for a moment, his arms quickly pulling free from their place behind him and flying forward, palms open, as one flew over Jaskier and as the other cast Aard toward the incoming knife and toward the petty thieves. Both were blown back by the wave of energy, the knife flying into the body of the robber that had thrown it, and the bodies of the pair flying back past the trees that lined the clearing. Geralt quickly pulled himself to standing as the thieves flew in the air, his feet quickly taking him over to his discarded swords.

Picking one of them up, Geralt heard the crunching of leaves, his head quickly turning toward the noise to see the pair beginning to run off, their legs moving them as fast as they could through the trees and surrounding bushes. Geralt huffed at the sight, and gently set down his sword against the nearest tree before he turned back to Jaskier who was still breathing harshly behind him.

“Looks like they couldn’t handle their own poisons,” Jaskier laughed quietly as Geralt moved closer to him. “Stab me a few times, but they run at the thought of being stabbed by a Witcher? I’ve never seen such cowa—”

“Jaskier, shut up,” Geralt said as he knelt down to the bard. “Give me your hand,” he commanded as he reached his hand out to Jaskier. Jaskier lifted his good hand to Geralt and set it gently in the Witcher’s hand, who only proceeded to move his away quickly. “Your injured hand, Jaskier.”

“Oh, uh.” Glancing down at his still bleeding hand, the bard twitched his fingers a few times before turning back to look at Geralt. “I don’t think you’ll want this hand, it’s bleeding quite a bit. It’s got a mind of its own too, won’t listen to me trying to not move it at al– oh, you’re just going to grab– have at it then I suppose!” Grabbing and then examining Jaskier’s hand, Geralt tried to not move it too much as blood began to slide onto his own hand. Reaching down pulling a large polishing cloth from the pile of his discarded items, Geralt gently began to wrap it around his bard’s hand as the man watched him with his face contorted in a bit of pain. “Oh, that smarts a bit!”

“You’ll live.” Geralt said simply as he finished tying the wrap. “However.” Turning his eyes toward the knife still sticking out of Jaskier, the man followed Geralt’s gaze and then turned quickly back up to meet the Witcher’s eyes.

“Oh dear, is this going to hurt as bad as the last knife?” he asked, a bit of panic in his eyes. “We could- We could just leave it! Yeah! No need to cause any more harm! Doesn’t even hurt anymore, actually. Just feels like a little pinch, and I can live with that. It’ll make for a great story to tell! ‘Why the bard lives with a knife in his belly!’ or maybe ‘How a simple bard got stabbed and saved the White Wolf!’ So, let’s just be on our wa—” Geralt reached his hands toward the bard slowly, one gently pressing on the rambling man’s stomach around the knife as the other grasped onto the handle. “Geralt! Are you even listening to me?” Jaskier gasped as his good hand flew down and grabbed onto the wrist of the hand pressing firmly onto his stomach.

“About as much as you listen to me,” Geralt said simply as he looked over the knife. “It’s a short knife, so the harm should be minimal. We’ll cover it, and ride to the town we passed a short ways away.”

“We can’t just leave it in and instead find a healer who will help me in a gentler, less painful way?” Jaskier asked, his hand still gripped tightly on Geralt.

“No.”

“Can I at least have something to bi—”

“Jaskier.”

“Oh alright! Get on with i—!" Geralt didn’t even wait for the man to finish his sentence before he pulled the short knife out of Jaskier, a loud outcry coming from the bard immediately as Geralt quickly closed his hand over the freed wound. Ragged breaths again escaped the bard as Geralt tossed the knife to his side, and Jaskier’s hand continued to hold onto his wrist as he did so with a grip that was impossibly tight but not affecting the Witcher’s movements. “Fuck! That hurts! Must you press so hard on me?”

“Do you wish to not be able to tell the tale of how you were stabbed?” Geralt asked flatly, his hand not letting up any pressure on the wound below it as he reached his other hand to Jaskier’s doublet.

“Oh, alright, keep pressing then!” Jaskier conceded, his hand finally letting go of Geralt’s. “This will turn into an epic tale, I suppose. I—hey, what’re you doing?” Feeling the buttons on his doublet slowly become undone by Geralt’s hand, Jaskier looked at the man in confusion. “I do truly doubt now is the best time for me to strip down, the sun’s almost gone down! I’m going to freeze to death before I bleed to death!”

“It’s already ruined with blood; you’ll use it to hold down on your wound whilst we travel.” Geralt growled as he kept on unbutton the bard’s doublet, slightly irritated at his bard’s resistance to being helped. Pulling the last button free, Geralt yanked at the sleeve of the shirt on the bard’s right side. “Take it off.”

“Are you this bossy with everyone you strip down?”

“ _Jaskier_.”

“Alright, alright! I concede!” Jaskier struggled to pull off his doublet, his right arm flailing a bit in as he struggled to remove the garment from himself, and as the top finally began to fall off of him, he struggled to free himself from the sleeve entirely as Geralt kept his hand pressed firmly down on his still bleeding wound. “This would be tremendously easier if I didn’t have a brute’s hand holding part of it in place.”

“I’m keeping you from bleeding out everywhere,” Geralt growled as Jaskier finally removed his arm from his sleeve. Reaching about the bard, Geralt pulled the doublet off of Jaskier’s injured arm and around his whole torso before beginning to ball up the garment over Jaskier’s wound. “Hold this here.”

“Do I have to hold it as hard as you were doing?”

“Yes.”

“Do I really though? Is the pain it’s causing me not a sign I should—” Feeling a bit of cloth shoved into his mouth, Jaskier let out a muffled yelp as he realized that a clean part of his doublet was now preventing him from talking. Looking at Geralt with surprise, Jaskier saw the man about snarling.

“ _Press_.” The Witcher commanded, his finger pointing directly at the doublet on the bard. Pulling the garment out of his mouth, Jaskier huffed at the man, but listened and began to press down on his wound with his doublet. Geralt sighed as Jaskier listened, and then turned to the area behind him where his and Jaskier’s belongings were still spread about on the floor. He stood up and began to gather everything, not caring about whose stuff was going in whose bag, instead just gathering it all as quickly as he could. Once everything was in someone’s bag, Geralt turned to Jaskier, and hauled up the pair’s bags onto his shoulder before saying, “Stay sitting. I’ll get Roach ready, and then we’ll leave.”

Stepping out of the area, Geralt made his way quickly to where Roach was, happy that she didn’t seem like she had been bothered by the robbers from before. Patting her gently on the side again by habit, the Witcher quickly and messily loaded his and Jaskier’s things onto his horse before he returned back to the area where Jaskier was waiting.

Glancing at the bard who had actually listened and remained sitting, Geralt watched as Jaskier stared at his injured hand that still lay on the ground, the wrapping on it slightly peaking a bit of blood through it as it remained still. From Jaskier, Geralt moved his gaze to the sky, the sunset close as the shadows of the trees covered everything in the area. He wanted to have had camp set up by sundown, the fire he was going to make long since started and warming up the area that would soon be close to freezing cold as the sun disappeared. Travelling at night was never his preferred time, but Geralt knew that Jaskier wouldn’t be capable of not moving and not exacerbating his wound til it bled him dry during the night.

Stepping over to the man, Geralt knelt down to Jaskier, who jumped a bit as he did so. Giving the bard a questioning look, Jaskier only shook his head a bit, a forced smile appearing on his face as Geralt stared at him.

Geralt reached down and grabbed Jaskier’s injured hand gently, and as he set it gently over the bard’s body, he let out a light and short hum.

“How far away was that last town? The sun is setting pretty quickly, are we really go—Whoa!” Barely listening to Jaskier, Geralt quickly put his arms under the man’s legs and arms and lifted him up as he stood with ease. Jaskier tensed up immediately as Geralt lifted him, his injured arm uncomfortably pressed between himself and Geralt’s chest, but he continued to press down on his doublet with his better arm despite discomfort. “Oh, this is less than dignified! Must this be how we move?”

“You need to keep pressing on your wound, and this will keep you from moving too much,” Geralt explained as he began to walk back toward Roach, carefully stepping as to avoid making any sudden drops.

“I can keep pressing on it as I walk! Oh, my epic tale is becoming less epic with each passing moment,” Jaskier complained as he watched Geralt walk through the thicket. “If I’m to keep myself from moving, pray tell how I’m supposed to get onto Roach without doing so?” Geralt glanced down at the man for a second, his expression unreadable to the bard as he walked closer to Roach. Lifting his hand for a moment, Geralt grabbed Roach’s reigns, taking a second to allow them to wrap around his wrist before returning his grip onto Jaskier’s shoulder. “Wait. Am I not getting on Roach?”

“No. The ride would be too rough,” Geralt said simply as he began to walk toward the path, Roach following closely at his side.

“Oh, just take all of my dignity from me!” the bard huffed, the side of his head pressing into Geralt’s shoulder firmly. “This is the most undignified outcome to the day!”

“Hm,” was all the Geralt mustered forward as Jaskier complained. The bard continued to complain about his ‘epic tale’ as Geralt walked toward the nearest village, and it was only as the sun had finally set completely that Jaskier finally grew quiet. Geralt almost reveled in the silence but keeping his eyes forward and ears on the alert, he focused instead on making sure that he wouldn’t be surprised by any people who may also be travelling during the night. So focused on the task at hand, Geralt was unable to see Jaskier as his eyes stared down at his injured hand as he attempted to move it, unable to do so despite his best efforts. Scrunching his face as he attempted once more, the bard finally gave up and turned his eyes toward the road.


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt was thankful that the small town he and Jaskier had passed during the day did in fact have a healer in it, something he feared would be missing from the town as it was so small. But the healer was present, and surprisingly less upset about being disturbed after sundown than Geralt thought she would be. She was upset for only a moment at the knock of her door, but at the sight of a Witcher carrying a sheepish looking bard who was bleeding, her anger left as quickly as she ushered them inside.

The stab wound Jaskier had gained on his torso was a shallow one, and one that only needed 10 stiches to sew up. Even after the first stitch had gone in, Jaskier still made consistent noises of discomfort despite knowing what was coming, and could only Geralt roll his eyes at the wide-eyed bard who continued to stare at his wound being fixed even after being told to look away.

Once his stomach was patched back together, the healer began to stitch up Jaskier hand, something that the bard refused to look at as the healer worked. The healer worked on both sides of his hand, stitching the punctures closed slowly and with care. Once she was finished, she tightly wrapped Jaskier’s hand in a bandage.

“Keep this still for at least a week,” the healer said at Jaskier, who was watching her hide his stitches below the wrappings. As the bandage was wrapped firmly into place, Geralt pulled out his bag and slowly dug through it, trying to find his small bag of payments in order to pay the healer. But as she noticed the man searching, she held her hand up and stopped him.

“Instead of coins, I have a deal,” she said. Raising his eyebrow, Geralt slowly withdrew his hand from his bag. “I’ve got many piles of wood I need stacked as some kids went and knock them all down. And I’ve got a small, spare room in the back here since my boy left. Stack up all my firewood again, and you’re free to stay here. Then I can rewrap these in the morning before you’re off again.”

Pondering over the request for a second, Geralt looked down at Jaskier who was looking up at him already. Jaskier raised his eyebrow and shrugged a bit at the Witcher, which was exactly what Geralt expected him to do.

“Where’s the firewood?” Geralt asked as he tossed his bag next to Jaskier.

Stacking the firewood didn’t take Geralt very long, each piece weighing nothing to him as he carried dozens of pieces and stacked them back into an organized pile for the healer. He was done within half an hour, and the healer very pleased with his work as she began to unravel a circle of rope to the ground.

“I’ll tie this all down,” She said as she smiled lightly at Geralt. “The room is through the main room; your bard has already made himself at home in there.” Geralt only hummed a light response to her before he turned back to the house and went inside. Seeing only 2 doors inside, one of which was open and lacking a bard inside, Geralt made his way toward the other one.

Geralt could hear Jaskier singing inside, but stopping just before the doorway, he could hear that Jaskier's singing was…off. Geralt wasn’t able to place it, and he continued to listen to his bard's voice coming from inside the room. Jaskier would sing a few words, pause, and then the muffled voice of the man could be heard before the strum of lute rang out, something Geralt thought was odd.

The words were familiar to Geralt, ones of a song that the man had been working on for quite a while, but they didn’t hold the passion and vibrance that Geralt was used to. Jaskier's voice would normally hit people's ears with a unforgetting force, the tune and sweet sound of it captivating their attentions as it passed by and caused them to turn their heads toward it in wanting. The notes would float above them, each one bouncing along as all the words tied together in a melody composed and told by someone with passion at his core.

Even when he would sing more saddening songs, the melody would float to people at their level, their ears catching on and attaching to the words that would pluck at their heart strings. That was always the experience that Jaskier’s music would bring people, and as the bard sang to more and more people throughout the continent, the more people were able to experience it. The tell of his songs spread across far and wide, and people would often ask him to sing and play to them in random places outside of his preferred taverns and paid events as they too wished to hear and feel the words that had enchanted so many before.

But the words never sounded hollow, never sounded as low hanging as the ones Geralt could hear on the other side of the door. Even the few plucks on the strings of Jaskier’s lute sounded wrong, sounded flimsy to Geralt. Waiting til just after the bard had stopped singing, but before he was able to produce any sound from his lute, Geralt opened the door, causing the bard to jump and almost throw his lute at the sudden noise.

“Geralt!” Jaskier called at as he turned to face the Witcher. “Heavens, is knocking too much to ask for? I thought my heart was going to escape me for sure!”

“Would be a tragedy,” Geralt said as he stepped fully into the room. Looking over Jaskier, who was dramatically holding his uninjured hand over his heart, Geralt noticed that the bard had the palm of his injured hand holding up the neck of his lute that was placed on his lap with his fingers weakly wrapped around it. “Aren’t you supposed to be immobile?”

“Oh, yes! But…” Looking down at his lute, Jaskier’s uninjured hand twitched around the neck, as if attempting to place his fingers onto the strings. Geralt simply watched as he walked more into the room, his swords slowly sliding off of his back and onto the floor as Jaskier continued to twitch his fingers on his lute. “I just…wanted to practice a bit while you were out. Know how much you hate me practicing while you’re around!” Jaskier grinned as he looked at Geralt. The grin he had on his face was unlike his normal one however, and Geralt saw right through it as he neared the bard.

“How’s practice going?” Geralt asked, slowly sitting down at the only chair that was sat before the only table in the room.

“Going great!” Jaskier lied. “Never better!”

“Hm.” Looking down at the lute again, Geralt let his eyes wander over the strings for a few seconds, wondering exactly how a piece of wood and some string could make such wonderful noises. “Let me hear.”

“W-What?” Jaskier asked, completely befuddled at the sudden request. “Y-You want to hear me practicing? You never want to hear me practice! Didn’t the last time I started my practice around you, you said something like, ‘I’ll take that lute and use it to mark your grave site when I kill you!’”

“That was then, this is now.” Geralt stated simply.

“What’s the difference between then and now?”

“I’m asking now.”

“Geralt!”

“Jaskier.” Motioning to the lute that was still sitting on Jaskier’s lap, Geralt kept on strong, “Let me hear.”

Jaskier hesitated, his uninjured hand resting on top of the strings for a moment before he looked down at his injured hand. He didn’t move for a moment, just looked over the strings of his instrument as the silence around the room continued on. Finally reaching down, Jaskier pulled his lute up and sat it in position against himself, the palm of his hand holding up the neck of gently.

His fingers twitched as he held the lute up, and Jaskier tried his hardest to close his hand around to the strings in order to play. Quickly lifting his other hand off of the lute’s front, Jaskier used it to close his fingers around the neck, his fingers still twitching a bit a they were held down. Jaskier’s face was pulled tight, his brow furrowed as he stared down at his clenched hands. His better hand slowly released his injured hand, but as all his injured hand’s fingers unwrapped themselves, the bard quickly squeezed his hand shut them around them again.

“Jaskier?”

“Give me…one second.” Jaskier replied as he repeated his actions, his hand not holding in place no matter how many times he tried. “I just have to…This is a warmup you see.” Continuing his motions still, Geralt watched as Jaskier’s face continued to show his frustration, his eyebrows knit tight and his lips’ corners pulled down slightly. The bard’s hand never stayed in place on his instrument, and each attempt at keeping his fingers in place only lead to more frustration out of the man. Geralt finally had enough after he heard the quietest noise of struggle from the back of Jaskier’s throat.

Reaching his hands out gently, Geralt took Jaskier’s lute into one of his hands, and into his other he lightly grabbed the injured and wrapped hand. Surprised at the sudden touch, Jaskier looked up to Geralt quickly, his eyes wide but his face furrowed in confusion at what the man was doing. Geralt simply shook his head and pulled the lute away from the frustrated man, placing it on the table next to him before turning his head back to look at Jaskier. The bard continued to look at Geralt for a second, confusion still heavy in his face until he turned his eyes away to look at his lute. Geralt watched Jaskier’s eyes turn to his lute, saw the slight change of emotion in his face as he stared at it, and the Witcher let his own hand close lightly around the injured hand he held as he continued to look at Jaskier.

“You’re supposed to be immobile, to allow this to heal,” Geralt finally said after a few moments. “It won’t be able to heal if you’re straining it.” Leading Jaskier’s hand down from its place, Geralt moved himself a bit closer to his bard as he set his hand down on Jaskier’s knee, his fingers curved around the bard’s hand and his thumb pressing lightly into the injured hand’s palm. Jaskier’s fingers were still twitching slightly, and Geralt waited until Jaskier looked back to him before he continued, “you’ll be able to practice again once your wound closes completely.”

“…But, what if I can’t?” Barely hearing his voice, Geralt watched as Jaskier looked down at his hand as he tried to curl his fingers in, unsuccessful as they only twitched again. “What if I can’t…ever play again?”

Jaskier didn’t look back up at Geralt, and the Witcher kept his eyes on the changes in his bard’s face as his emotions showed through: from angry to sad to disheartened in just a matter of seconds. Geralt let his thumb run over the wrappings on Jaskier’s bandage absentmindedly while he continued to watch the disheartened face before him, no words coming out from either of the men as the seconds passed by them. After an unknown number of minutes had passed by, Jaskier finally looked toward Geralt, his eyes meeting the Witcher’s as they posed the same question to him in an unspoken manner.

“…If you can’t ever play again…” Geralt began, his eyes still locked into Jaskier’s as he worked to form words. “Then…you won’t have a lute to accompany the songs you sing to the people who throw their tavern food at you.”

“Well…Yeah, I won’t,” Jaskier replied, his voice hinted with a bit of confusion at Geralt’s statement.

“So, nothing will change. You’ll still sing your annoying songs, and you’ll still get food thrown at you,” Geralt continued, his hand gently closing Jaskier’s hand into a fist as he spoke. “Your lute isn’t what makes your performances, your voice, the tales you tell, and what you put into your songs is what people want to hear.” Jaskier’s face changed as Geralt spoke, and the man watched as the state of sadness drained from his face and was replaced with an unreadable expression.

“…You’re right.” Jaskier finally said after a few moments, a small smile accompanying his words. Geralt couldn’t help but smile a bit as well but tried his hardest to keep it from showing through. Jaskier saw the slight movement of the witcher’s mouth however, and he only grinned wider at the sight. “I _am_ still able to sing! And people will still be able to hear about all the tales I have to tell. Maybe you could learn to play the lute in my place as well!”

“No,” Geralt said firmly, his face going stern quickly.

“What? You don’t want to learn to play so you can elevate my singing at the taverns?”

“I’d rather take on a werewolf while blindfolded and barehanded,” Geralt said flatly, his hand slowly trying to pull away from Jaskier’s grip.

“Oh, that’d be an epic tale to tell! That would be a tale not unlike your fight with werewolf back in Kagen! Oh, I could write a series of songs for you! I can already imagine it now!” Jaskier grinned, his hand holding firmly on Geralt’s as the man tried to escape. “Let’s see… _The White Wolf_ —”

“Don’t sing,” Geralt growled, his hand still attempting to escape his bard’s grasp.

“What, why not? You love my singing!”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do! You asked me not but 5 minutes ago to hear my song!”

“I do not, now release my hand.”

“We should set off to find a werewolf for you to defeat! I must see through with this new found inspiration of mine for this new series of tales!”

“ _Jaskier_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has any Witcher requests, you can find me on tumblr (name is ashenious). I'll write most anything and turn around is usually within 2 weeks so


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